SnapShots
by Corvus no Genmu
Summary: A series of one-shots that take place between the pages of Kamen Riders Daikaiju and Guardian Force. Contains a lot of OCs so best read the previous fics before reading these. Next segment up: "Halloween".
1. Miracle

Me: A series of tales from between the chapters of the Kamen Rider series. Most will primarily be one-shots and will vary in length and purpose, and will likely be out-of-order somewhat but never fear! I shall alert the time of the story before the one-shot can begin!

Bahamut: Oy, Corvus! If you don't hurry now, you're going to be late!

Me: Ack, gotta run, everyone! Enjoy the holidays!

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**DISCLAIMERS: Don't own what's not my own.**

**TIME: A few months after the events of Kamen Rider Daikaiju: "Ragnarok's End"  
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**SnapShots**

By Corvus no Genmu the Prince of Slumberland

_"Miracle"_

Snowflakes fell from the sky like gentle crystals, the cold strong enough to keep their form even on the warm earth. A slight shiver and a puff of heated breath came between slightly chapped lips as gleaming eyes of fire's light looked heavenwards not for the first time these past days of the oncoming winter season. A gloved hand carefully reached out, eyes watching the shapes of the frozen water melt back to its original form on the leather like material. A frown marked the face as heated breath came from the nose giving one the idea of an angered beast of flaming breath. Eiji Kusanagi was not unaware of the snow and the season of winter though such a thing had been forgotten on the world he and what remained of his family.

That thought made his frown turn to outright scowl that startled some passerby but were otherwise ignored by the boy in question. He had no love for the season, both the winter and the holidays; for he had no good memories to think back on these times. Eiji was a leader, more than that, he was a commander of a group of powerful warriors that had fought to survive in a world that allowed no sense of peace, a world that tore away any kind of happiness they had. They had moved on in their own ways, buried their pains to the graves under the emotions they preferred to voluntarily show the world at an excess.

Some memories though, were too big, too painful, to ever truly move past.

Children's laughter drew Eiji's eyes from the sky to a pair of children. One, the older, was a girl whose eyes shined with glee at a rather pretty unicorn doll sitting beside what her younger brother obviously emulated, a train set. Eiji was familiar with the store as it was one of the few that sold the 'classical' style of toy, original yet still a remembrance of something of the past, the present, and the possible future. The children were joined by their parents, and Eiji found his hands clenching tight at the sight of the mother; tight enough to have drawn blood were his hands devoid of gloves.

He turned away from the sight, thankful that his empathy was not active. To see was bad enough but to remember how it felt, a mother's love… It would have been too much to bear. His black coat hanging like a cloak from his shoulders, Eiji turned and walked away from the scene and memories.

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Morisato hummed happily alongside the old radio he had managed to salvage and repair to working order. It was by no means a work of technological greatness that he was familiar with, but the times supplied the tunes he wished to hear as he set about the finishing touches in his shared home with his fellow Riders. Grinning to himself, the scarred youth plugged in the lights and watched as rainbows shone brightly along the green pines of the Christmas tree, the shining gold star at its top sparkling.

Nodding in satisfaction, Morisato made to stand when his eyes fell upon a shining purple ball hanging from the tree's branches. It wasn't unique, truthfully it was one of five on the tree, but perhaps it was more in the way the light of the tree that shined upon it or even how he was kneeling before it that caught Morisato's attention. His dull yellow eyes stood out in the violet sheen of the orb, the scar over his left one even more so. He reached out to the ball, touching it lightly. Amethyst… just like her eyes.

"Espi-chan…" he whispered quietly. "I hope… that you'll forgive me… for not giving you the love you deserved." By his nature, Morisato had always been a flirt, teasing and poking fun at any girl that caught his attention, some more so than others. However, he never really loved them, at least not in the way he should have. Espiga Parker had been everything of his ideal woman and despite his flirtations with other girls, she loved him. So much, in fact, that she died.

Just for him.

The thing that really hurt the most was when Kiri Natchios had gone after Espiga, in hopes of bringing her back alive and well, while he, Espiga's so-called soul mate… did nothing. Morisato would love to blame the Crystals that had infected his mind, his personality, but he wasn't a liar, not anymore. Espiga died, trying to live up to expectations he didn't want her to hear and Kiri died bringing her body back to them, free of the Crystals. In her last moments, she cursed him for taking the heart of the one person whom she loved more than anything, for not being the kind of person Espiga had believed him to be.

It was times like these that Morisato wondered if he even deserved the life he had anymore, if the scar over his eye was enough of a reminder, or if he earned the right to be happy with his newfound love, Ami Mizuno. So it was, with a storm of dark and bleak thoughts that Morisato stood to his feet and made his way to the garage, to further drown himself in his work on rebuilding the K-Cycles, never once seeing the smallest bit of life falling down upon the Christmas ornament and watching in hushed silenced.

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Takuya hated a lot of things, as anyone who knew him could attest. It was even more obvious just what he hated most on certain occasions, or on a daily routine really, but sometimes, it took eyes like a hawk to really find what the Yashima heir truly loathed with all his being and even then, those eyes would still have to find the root, the why, of that hatred to fully comprehend it. With his heated glares aimed skyward, towards freezing gusts of wind weighed by flurries of snow, one could assume that it was the season itself that the redhead hated.

Being able to bend the winds to his beck and calling only stretch so far and, unlike the Urashima siblings, Takuya did not have complete control over nature and so had to allow the winds their natural course. More than that, flying was an activity made all the more fun on warm sunny days, where the winds could keep his body cool despite the hot temperatures. In the middle of winter, such a thing was taken to the extreme and beyond and Takuya held no joy in repeating the experience he had once before.

However, if one were to look more at what surrounded Takuya and knew more of him, they'd change their opinions drastically. The swordsman was standing before a large lake, frozen over several times with several ice skaters glided gently across its pristine surface. A particular pair that he had been watching just moments ago, was having a difficult time of it made more so by the gentle teasing of the eldest. The young girl, possibly a year or two younger than Rini, had not gained the proper method of balancing on the thin blades and though he was there to help and teach her, her elder brother still found humor in her fallings painful though they were.

Takuya uttered several choice words as to how he felt about the snow, the ice, the whole season, nature and holiday, as a whole that, had he been heard by polite company… well, let's just say that said company would not be so polite any longer. He turned and started walking away, his crimson trench coat billowing in the wind. It had been some months since the whole thing with the "Dark Riders" and the cause of the Crystal Incursion, and though he had, at last, properly avenged his younger sister, Takuya did not feel at peace with himself as he expected to be.

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It was strange for him though one wouldn't think it so. After all, he had it for several years and the replacement for but a few. Perhaps it was the strangely foreign familiarity of feeling blood flowing through warm flesh than oil through cold metal that made it seem so odd to him but he knew that wasn't the case; not entirely at any rate. No, what Shiro could not overcome was the loss of Asagi's watch, the very same watch that he had grafted onto his artificial hand and had marked to forever remember his promise to his first love, Asagi, and his cousin, Gabriel, both lost on that same dark day.

It was the last thing Shiro had of Asagi on the physical plane and he had lost it in the expanse of the Void, the plane where Shiro and his fellow Riders combated against the Terror King and had emerged victorious, Ghidorah destroyed for all eternity. Thanks to the BioMerge System, the Kamen Riders had won that fight, but they were not without their own wounds. They had been changed, slightly in some cases, graphically in others. Shiro himself had been granted not only his right arm, whole and active, but also…

Vibrantly bright green eyes narrowed as fists clenched tight before a pair of blades made entirely of bone burst forth from his wrists along the outer side of his hands. The blades extended over a foot-and-a-half, and were curved like the blades of the samurai. Shiro looked at them with disgust before sighing and relaxing the muscles in his arms, allowing the blades to retract back into his wrists without a scratch. How cruelly ironic that he, the pacifist, be the only one armed twenty-four/seven…

Perhaps the gods were trying to tell him something in this but for the life of him, Shiro could not tell. If there was but one message in this strange transformation of his body, it may well be that he was forever doomed to walk the path of the warrior, never to find the peace he's strived for despite the future he helped save.

Shiro's head rose at the sound of voices from downstairs. His eyes gained a molten glow as he looked through the fields of mana and he smiled at the familiar auras. He rose to his feet and made way downstairs where, for now at least, he could be at peace with the family he had left.

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Ushiwaka Urashima was, by nature, a very dangerous individual. Raised and trained in the art of ninjutsu, the art of shadow killing, the boy was a trained killer before he reached the age of ten, the very age he was chosen as the wielder of the K-Zector containing one of the Guardian Beasts, Varan of the Sky. With the added abilities granted to him through the biomechanical device, Waka became something of a legend in his own right during his time serving under Gojira and the elder Riders, including his own two older siblings. No longer was he limited to kill through steel or fist, now the open sky was his hidden home, poisons his closest ally, and the wind his blade. Add on top of that the changes brought by the BioMerge and Waka had become a living killing machine, able to kill with the smallest touch.

With all this in mind, it wasn't too hard to imagine how difficult it was for the young boy to adapt to a world of peace, which was, at best, interrupted only by the random youma from a so-called "Negaverse". By his blood Waka was a predator and a killer, but somehow…

A gust of wind blew him skyward, his cloak held tight in clawed hands as he glided on the snow-driven currents of the winter season. Frost covered the spiky orange locks of his hair but Waka paid it no heed. Having been dead once before, the boy felt entitled to push himself past what limits he, or rather his sister, had set, but more than that… he wanted to see.

He wanted to see the shining lights of the yuletide season, the creatures carved from snow and ice sparkling in the rainbow lights of the evening, and the people so innocent and carefree that a smile was as common as the sun rising on the horizon. His first days being in this new world had been hectic and rushed with adrenaline born of an apocalyptic threat created from the hands of traitors, Waka had no real chance to see the world that was to be his new home.

At first, he denied the change and tried to remain as he was but slowly, ever so bloody slowly, he had begun to change perhaps for the better. He landed atop one of the many skyscrapers and gazed down at the many (so many!) people down below. This world would never be home, not for someone as bloodthirsty as him, but perhaps he could allow his rage to wither just enough that Waka could let his poisoned heart begin to accept this strange concept of peace.

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The fire burned brightly, the logs creating a pleasant scent from within the stone fireplace. Eyes of clayish red gazed into the embers listlessly as faintly pointed ears twitched from the occasional sound in the kitchen. Issun Urashima, elder brother to Waka and younger to Kushinada, sat almost listlessly before the warm fireplace with a large thick quilt wrapped tightly around his person. He sniffed, not truly sick but feeling rather despondent with the cold brought on by the season of winter. Holding the power of Baragon of Earth made Issun's tolerance for low temperatures quite small, even more so when one took his fire bending into account as well.

True, he was by no means a master of fire bending, not like Shiro, but Issun was, by habit, used to warmer climates than this having not actually seen snow outside of old pictures and videos. His eyes narrowed slightly and Issun pulled his head more out of the quilt before blowing a stream of fire into the fireplace. Satisfied that more wood was burning nice and proper, Issun sat back in his chair with a contented sigh. He yawned tiredly and closed his eyes for another light nap. '_Stupid… hibernation… instincts…_' And with that, Issun was out like a light.

Kushinada looked out from inside the kitchen and sighed, shaking her head with a faint smile on her face. She knew that the winter wouldn't be easy on Issun, being both unused to the cold and connected to elements that are weak against the ice and snow of winter. She too would be feeling the same if she wasn't "cheating" by using her electrical abilities to provide more energy to her body. Housing the power of the Water Guardian, Manda, made her both strong and weak in this climate. Surrounded by water, solid or otherwise, made her quite the deadly foe to any youma that dared to enter this plane.

The tall young woman returned once more to the task at hand of cooking her share of the meal for that evening. She was by no means the ideal chef but Kushinada knew her way around the kitchen better than the boys. She still remembered the effects of Waka and Takuya's last attempt at making food. Needless to say, none of the Riders would ever look at PB-n-J sandwiches ever again.

Washing her hands clean, Kushinada thought once more n the strange twist of fate that had brought her blood-family together again. She wasn't a firm believer in faith, not like Shiro or Sensei, but what Kushinada didn't believe was coincidence. There had to be more to her family's resurrection than Serizawa's twisted schemes. She refused to believe that she and her brothers were brought back to life for that one battle alone. There had to be more to it than that.

There had to.

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That Christmas morning had been quiet though many wondrous gifts were exchanged between the Riders. With the day still young, those with a sense of family outside of their own they shared with each other left to find those missing pieces of their heart while the others made way for their own methods of celebrating the holiday. The Urashima siblings had left for a walk across the city, taking in the festive cheer of those around them and taking in the sights of the Christmas decorations in their fully glory.

"Who'da thought there'd be so much cheer around this city?" muttered Waka, keeping his normally foul mouth clean, as a part of his Christmas gift to his sister. He was dressed in the same cloak he wore yesterday but wearing heavier clothes to dissuade his siblings of his desire to fly despite the cold.

"They have a lot to celebrate for this year," yawned Issun, tugging at the scarf he had gotten from a… friend… of his at school. It was kind of itchy and he had taken note of the kittens that decorated the ends of the scarf. He was glad for his insightfulness in sending for her gift so early. She'd be receiving it right about now, and he sincerely hoped she liked it as much as he liked his scarf, despite Waka's teasing.

Kushinada nodded in agreement with her brother. "Considering they nearly experienced the apocalypse, it is not so hard to disbelieve." Hardly anyone gave her a second glance for which she was thankful. Being tall in Japan was not necessarily a bad thing but seeing a teenage girl as herself nearly pushing seven feet, well… she was bound to get a few stares, especially when people noticed she wasn't a foreigner.

"Ahem, pardon me," the Urashima siblings stopped and saw a man dressed in a long red trench coat, his black hair tied back into a loose ponytail. He was holding a small wrapped package in his hands which he now held before the Urashima's. "I think you dropped this."

Kushinada hesitantly took the package from the man and glanced down at it along her brothers before looking up, "I'm sorry but we—Huh?" The man was gone, the snowy wind blowing away his tracks in the white expanse. "Where… how did he do that?" she whispered, snakelike eyes narrowed in obvious distrust.

"Uh… Sister?" muttered Waka. "You should see this."

She looked at her brothers and saw their eyes laid more on the package in her hands. Taking a look for herself, Kushinada felt her breath halt in her lungs for there, written in cursive script were their names, whole and complete, on the small parcel.

"Should we… I dunno know… open it?" asked Waka, a senbon already in hand.

"Put that away before you poke your eye out," grumbled Issun, pushing his younger brother's hand down. "It's not a bomb; I don't hear any kind of mechanisms inside it." Kushinada looked up and saw that Issun held an earmuff off one his ears, which was aimed directly at the parcel. "It sounds safe."

"Perhaps we should wait," whispered Kushinada, holding the package carefully lest it turn out to be a bomb despite Issun's assurance, "and have Sensei look over it."

Waka snorted and snatched the present from his sister's hands and started tearing into it. "I'm surrounded by worrywarts."

"Waka!" scolded Kushinada, bopping the young boy on the head. "It could be dangerous!"

"Please, like something dangerous could be in something so small." A whap to the back of his head. "Ow! Issun-no-baka!"

"Just open the thing without any wisecracks, brother mine." Issun sighed.

Waka grumbled a few nonsensical words, holding to his promise to keep his mouth clean on this day, before continuing with opening the small present. Gazing into the package, the youngest Urashima nearly dropped it in shock as his brother and sister openly gaped at the object within.

The item was ancient both in appearance and in actual age. Made completely of gold, the plaque was a little over the size of a large dinner plate and was depicted with eight distinct symbols along the outer and eight colored gemstones clasped in the mouths of all eight heads of the Orochi. The gems held in the jaws of Earth, Air, and Water shone brightest while those of Fire, Poison, and Lightning were just dimly lit. Darkness and Light remained motionless, allowing only the light of the sun to give them any kind of shine.

Issun hesitantly reached forward and gently touched the gems of Earth and Fire as Waka pulled the plaque out from the package, listlessly tossing it over his shoulder for Kushinada to catch more out of reaction than anything else. All three of the Urashima siblings knew the object that was there before them. It had been in their family for generations, passing through to the eldest son to the eldest son for nigh over several thousand years. They had thought it lost to them, gone forever in the remains of their old world but no, it was here before them in their hands once again.

"I… I don't believe it…" whispered Waka, completely stunned as he held up the plaque to his brother to hold. "Is it… is it the real thing?"

"Of course it is, foolish baby brother," muttered Issun, his usual gruffness absent from his voice. "But… how did…?" he trailed off, thinking perhaps, in this instance, it was better not to ask.

Kushinada herself was gazing into the depths of the package, where her ocean blue eyes fell upon the note left for them to see. She took the small slip of paper with trembling hands and read the curling script written in the serpent's tongue, the language of the snakes that only they, the Urashima's, could read.

_"Don't cry… you should be happy because you are alive and life… is wonderful!"_

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Shiro couldn't keep the smile off his face. The last several hours spent with his beloved priestess was time well spent. Being with her was a refresher on Shiro's tired soul, but more than that, her company alone was enough to cause the sun to shine even on his darkest of days. That and her no-nonsense attitude would not allow him to feel grief more because she didn't believe that he deserved to feel such a thing. So deep in his thoughts of his love, Shiro never took notice of the man in the large red trench coat sliding towards him on a particularly large patch of ice until it was too late and they had collided into each other.

"Oof!" Shiro mentally berated himself for his inattentiveness and sat up to offer his apologies only to find the other man already gone with a bouquet of roses resting in his lap. Surprised and more than slightly unnerved by the sudden disappearance of the man and the appearance of the flowers, Shiro stood to his feet, bouquet in hand. He blinked in surprise at the weight of the flowers. He tilted them in his hand and started as a small silver object fell into his free hand, his right if one need be specific.

He blinked once, twice, three times, gaping openly at the small silver pocket-watch etched with the symbol of a rose on its cover.

"It's… no, it couldn't be…" Shiro hastily placed the roses in the crook of his elbow and undid the latch. The flowers fell to the snow with a soft thump, the watch nearly joining them. The emerald-haired youth felt something wet running down his face but he didn't care for the tears that fell from his eyes. No, what he cared about was what the watch that rested gently in his open palm and the inscription written in pleasantly familiar handwriting underneath the rose decorated latch.

_"Vive Ut Vivas"_ or, in the words of the Olde English, "Live, so that you may live."

"Heh…heheh…" Shiro laughed, tears falling down his face as he looked heavenward, clutching the watch tightly in his right hand. "I hear you, Asagi… I hear you…"

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Takuya stood atop Tokyo Tower with no fear as he stared down at the white expanse, feeling particularly lonely. Mina was off in England visiting her family and wouldn't be back until after the New Year and with the approaching blizzard, Takuya would have to wait a few days more before attempting a flight across two continents. He'd probably make it if he left now but having flown through a blizzard once before… He shivered, drawing his long trench coat tight around his body. That wasn't an experience he was willing to repeat.

Suddenly, somewhere out of the blue, a small square-shaped something landed atop his head. Despite nearly falling off the Tower and yelling several words that he was sure Kushinada would reprimand him for, Takuya had sense enough to catch whatever it was that had fallen atop his head. Rubbing the bump on his noggin, the Yashima glared down in disbelief at the flat, square shaped package in his hands. "How in the hell…?" He looked skyward for a sign… of a plane of course! No way would he see reindeer or anything of the sort, no freaking way.

Looking down at the present once again, curiosity got the better of Takuya and he unwrapped the present, allowing the blowing gusts of the North wind to carry the paper away as he stared open mouth at the small framed picture of three familiar people it was obviously photoshopped, or something of the sort, it just had to be despite Morisato's complaints of the lacking of such technologies and advancements. How else could they be on this picture together like this?

A man with long red hair tied in a loose ponytail along his back, a scar running across his nose, and strangely nostalgic smile on his face with his arm wrapped around the waist of a woman with a long length of hair, the same shade as Takuya's brown locks, and a pleasant smile on her own youthful face with a hand gently resting upon the shoulder of a young girl, no older than eight years with a bright jubilant smile on her face and a bouquet of lilies in her hands. Takuya knew them instantly but he denied them there being together like that. The man was gone before the girl had celebrated her first year of life and the woman followed him in the child's fifth and the child herself… never grew past eight years.

They were dead, every one of them but then how… how did this picture come to be? Takuya didn't know, didn't dare to question it for there beneath the glass and wood of the picture frame… was his family. The father he barely remembered, the mother he recalled in his dreams, and the sister he couldn't protect… together in a way that made him feel strangely jealous.

Takuya hugged the frame close to his chest, a smile on his otherwise scowling face before confusion marked it. He pulled something loose from behind the picture frame, a small business card of some sort. Before he had chance to read it, Takuya vanished from Tokyo Tower, nay the city, the country, the entire continent. He shook his head, startled by the sudden change from afternoon to late evening of the previous day, the card vanishing into snowflakes on the wind. The door to the home in front of the boy opened and a familiar blonde-haired girl looked out first in shock than in loving surprise as she ran forward and embraced Takuya, knocking him onto his back and into the snow.

"Takuya!" Mina yelled, placing a quick kiss to his lips. "I thought you wouldn't be here until Saturday!"

"I…" He looked past for, to spare a quick glance at the photo in his left hand. "I wanted to surprise you…"

Had Takuya not allowed shock and wonder to take control of him, he'd have noted the fact that the kimonos of his family were done in the style of those whose fate rested in the hereafter. In other words, in the style of the dead.

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Had he Takuya's or even Waka's skill of the foulmouthed arts, Morisato would have been cursing a storm at so-called modern technology. Thus far, he'd managed to rebuild four of the K-Cycles, having now just completed Shiro's own, but it'd be some time until he'd finish the rest. Sighing tiredly, Morisato ambled past the bathroom, silently grateful to have spent the few hours he could talking with Ami and causing her to blush a total of fourteen times. That was a record right there but still… it wasn't the same as having her there in his arms, their mutual warmth shared between them both.

With another tired sigh, Morisato pushed open the door to his room—and somehow managed to repress the urge to scream. One would, upon seeing the room for themselves, think it was perhaps the sudden accumulation of cobwebs resting above the desk where Morisato's laptop desk but they'd be wrong. If one were of Morisato's stature and standing just as he was in the doorway with the afternoon light shining just so through his windows, they'd see for themselves the true meaning behind the web hanging gently over Morisato's desk.

"All… is Forgiven…?" he whispered, his amber orbs wide in disbelief as he stared at the writing spun into the silken strands. A faint breeze blew into the room and Morisato saw the thin string that fell from the web to the top of his closed laptop and again the short teenager repressed the urge to cry out in shock. Instead, he moved slowly, disbelief weighing his footsteps, to the desk and hesitantly, lest it perhaps disappear in front of his eyes, touched the silver chained necklace bedecked with a trio of amethyst crystals, all carved in a long crystalline shape. He recognized it for what it was and knew for whom it once belonged to but how… how did it end up here?

Morisato thought it perhaps a cruel trick delivered to him by Takuya but even the temperamental Yashima would not stoop to such a level as this… and the webbing alone was unexplainable, almost as much as the pair of curved sabers resting in their leather sheathes beside his desk. Not daring to blink, Morisato leaned down and, with a small gulp, pulled a blade free and gasped at the familiar jagged edge of the weapon.

He looked rapidly between the web, the necklace, and the blades before stumbling back and sitting on his bed before stiffening and looking down beneath his right hand to see a book. He picked it up and looked to its cover and blinked in surprise before a familiar twitch began to play on his lips until, at last, Morisato began to laugh quite uproariously as he fell back onto his bed, tears flowing down his eyes.

After he regained his breath, the scarred youth sat up, still chuckling as he looked not heavenwards, but to the webbing that hung gently above his desk. "You've a strange sense of humor, the both of you, but… I think I got the message… thank you… Espi-chan… Kiri-chan…" He looked to the book in his hands and chuckled once more, "I suppose Water-Sprite will enjoy reading Charlotte's Web as much I have."

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"Eiji…! That tickles!"

"Ah, but you enjoy it, no?" Eiji Kusanagi chuckled, pressing another kiss to Lita's neck, a hand playing with the ornament tied in her ponytail. "Your own fault for putting mistletoe in your hair. I'm afraid my lips will be too busy kissing you for the res o f the evening my dear heart."

Lita laughed, leaning back into Eiji's embrace. "You, my darling, take things far too literally at times."

"Hrmm, perhaps." Eiji sighed, letting his head resting gently on her shoulders and glancing down at the base of her throat. "Do you like your present?"

Lita smiled, her hand reaching up to clasp the heart shaped pendant with her name inscribed on its golden sheen. A picture of herself and Eiji rested inside it. "I do…" She blushed and looked up at him with demure eyes. "But I think I liked your second one more…"

Eiji blushed but couldn't resist smiling. True, he'd keep to his word of waiting until the night of their honeymoon but that didn't mean they couldn't find… other things… to do that didn't go to that length. Needless to say, both were exhausted afterwards and were now resting on the couch in Lita's apartment, a quilt wrapped tightly around them both. "I can't help but agree, Sweetheart." The Kusanagi's eyes drifted down to the table and he blinked in surprise. "Lita… did you forget to open a present earlier?"

"Hmm?" Lita sighed, her eyes closed as she leaned further back into Eiji's chest, twisting her head so that she rested her face on his shoulder. "No…"

"Is that for me then?" asked Eiji, looking at the package with a bit of suspicion in his orange eyes. He did not recall seeing the package there but considering he had been… busy… it wasn't too unexpected. Lita opened her eyes and looked for herself, quirking an eyebrow in confusion.

"That's not one of mine." She whispered. Eyes now narrowed, Eiji gently moved her off his lap, ready to toss the package out the window if it proved dangerous. He carefully opened the paper one fold at a time until both he and Lita found themselves staring at the blank cover of a photo-album. Surprised and, admittedly curious, Eiji sat back and opened the cover of the book and nearly dropped it off his lap. Lita leaned over, looking down in confusion at a man that looked remarkably like…

She gasped, "Eiji! Isn't that—"

"My father… and my…" Lita's eyes drifted over to the woman standing beside Raijin, dressed in a shining white wedding dress of the western style of marriage. Raijin himself was dressed in a rather smart looking tuxedo, that Lita was sure to look just as good on Eiji. "Mother…"

"Is this their wedding picture?"

"I… I guess it is…" whispered Eiji, gently touching the bottom edge of the photo. "We had to move around so often… we couldn't always take everything with us…"

Lita looked into her beloved's eyes and saw the strange blend of remembrance and despair in them. "Turn the page," she whispered. "Maybe there's more."

Eiji nodded wordlessly and turned the page and stifled a sob. "Asagi…"

"Your sister…?" whispered Lita, looking down at the image of a girl not much older than Haruka or Michiru, with long hair the color of the forests with the same eyes as Eiji's own. Though she knew not why, Lita felt as though she was looking at a rose given human form. "She's beautiful."

"Yes… she was…" Eiji turned the pages back, to look behind the cover of the book to see if there was anything, a note or an inscription, to give him some sort of clue as to who had given him this gift. There was nothing there save for a glistening black feather and the sound of a crow's laughter echoing in the horizon.

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Merry Christmas

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	2. Fates Renewed

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**DISCLAIMERS: Don't own what's not my own.**

**TIME: Right after Chapter 11 of Kamen Rider Guardian Force: Reign of Chaos  
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**SnapShots**

By Corvus no Genmu the Prince of Slumberland

_"Fates Renewed"_

J.D. spared a tired glare at Nicole before turning his eyes towards Adam. The trio were currently sitting in the café they frequented often though none of them had every gone together and certainly not with their present company. Their fellow Riders, using the term fellow quite loosely mind you, were currently busy communicating on their cellular phones. With who, J.D. couldn't quite tell only that those on the other side were quite ticked off with them and they were currently trying to placate them. The tanned boy would have laughed at the sight but he was too tired to really care.

"… So… you hated Jason too?" he suddenly asked the British teenager.

Adam spared him a small glance before looking at the Japanese Riders once more. "It was my father's job to report on the actions of his unit. When he died and I gained the K-Zector of Galgameth, I refused to accept the promotion to captain and allowed Young to take it. There's only one thing I've ever regretted more than that."

"When was this and where the heck was I?"

"A year before the K-Zector of G-Fantis accepted you and two before Zilla's accepted Nicole." Adam answered truthfully. His copper eyes fell on Nicole, whose eyes never left Eiji's turned back. "Do you hate him yourself or is it the kaiju in you?"

Nicole twitched and glanced at Adam before her eyes fell to her plate of untouched food. She half-heartedly began to eat as she answered. "A little of both… but I'm not telling you why."

"I think you'll find that I understand your rage." Adam whispered softly, his eyes hardening. "Far more than you realize."

"That Kushinada chick?" Adam's fork was crumpled in his hands and he leveled a deadly glare with J.D. who held up his hands. "Hey, I'm not stupid you know. My genius isn't limited to mechanics."

"Your sense of modesty is quite limited, however." Adam sighed and looked down at his hands. "Kushinada is… was someone very close to me. You've read the reports from Japan haven't you? Pertaining to Tokyo?"

"Yeah, it was taken back from the Crystals via a massive flood that sank the entire city. Wait." J.D. blinked in surprise. "Kushinada? As in, Kushinada Urashima, Kamen Rider Manda?" Adam remained silent and J.D. didn't press him for more.

"(_Sweetheart, really, it wasn't anything major believe me. …… Okay, technically, it was Takuya's fault for the bridge blowing up._)" Eiji spoke in Japanese into his cell.

Takuya turned sharply from his own conversation on his cell to retort but a few angry words drew him back. "(_Oh come on, he was chucking fire at me, like I wouldn't dodge it, kiddo!_)"

"(_Water Sprite, I assure you that we handled the situation quite well. All considering, I'm surprised only a bridge was totaled._)" Morisato chuckled, having an easier time with his girlfriend. The joy of loving someone with a level-head.

"(_My Lady,_)" sighed Shiro. "(_I give you my word that we shall explain this in full detail when we return._) The pacifist had no such joy as his own lady was one to match the fires she practioned with.

Eiji nodded to his girlfriend's words. "(_Yes, yes, you can assure them that he's fine as well._)" He glanced over his shoulder at Adam whose attention was focused more on his plate than anything else. "(_Hey are the Urashima's there as well? … Yes well I'm sure Waka deserved it but could you put Kushinada on? There's someone here who needs to talk to her._)"

Adam looked up sharply, his eyes focused on Eiji. Though he knew very little Japanese, he was able to pick up her name in Eiji's conversation. The young commander of the Daikaiju Riders held his cellphone out to Adam wordlessly. Adam looked at the phone in silence for a moment before taking it.

"Moshi Moshi?" Adam's eyes widened and he nearly dropped the phone in shock. He stood to his feet, keeping himself up by nearly breaking the table with his hand.

"Kushinada…?" he whispered. Nicole and J.D. watched in silence, surprised by this as much as Adam was.

Adam heard a stunned gasp on the other side before a familiar voice spoken in accented English. "Adam?"

"You're alive… You're alive!" Adam laughed, tears shining in his eyes. "Oh thank the Lady… How is this possible?"

"It's a long story… Anata."

Unnoticed by the group of Riders, Eiji silently moved to the back-alley behind the diner and stood as though waiting for something. He sighed tiredly and leaned against the wall of the diner, closing his eyes. "Hudson."

"Ryu-sensei." A young boy, no older than fourteen walked up to Eiji and sat down beside him tiredly, his breathing difficult as though he had asthma. Eiji looked down at the boy in concern and kneeled down beside him.

"Do you need me to call Midoriko?"

"No it —I… am okay… just out of breath…" Eiji frowned at Hudson's words. The boy was growing more out of breath by the day and Hotaru… Though Midoriko was trying her hardest, she couldn't stop whatever it was that was slowly, but surely, killing them. At best, they had until whatever disaster would begin the next Ice Age, at worse… a year. Eiji had seen the future and he had seen Hudson there and he tried his best to assure himself that time was fixed, that if Hudson lived then, he'd live now but he was no fool. He knew long before he received his inheritance that hope was a foolish ideal. And though he cared for his apprentice as though Hudson were his own, Eiji had his duties as Gojira to deal with as well as being Hudson's sensei. "So?"

"…" Hudson looked up slowly, his midnight black eyes shining with unshed tears. "It is finished. Jason Young… is no more."

* * *


	3. Ride Free

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**DISCLAIMERS: Don't own what's not my own.**

**TIME: Some months after the events of Kamen Rider Daikaiju: Epic of the Cosmos  
**

* * *

**SnapShots**

By Corvus no Genmu the Prince of Slumberland

_"__Ride Free__"_

The streets of Tokyo were by no means empty even in the midnight hour but by some form of miracle or magic, they were as empty as a fresh grave this moonless night. The odd pedestrian would think it odd before the idea of heavy traffic would turn itself around in their minds and make them believe this strangeness a common occurrence. The faint roars that echoed from the alleyways was of no concern to them for by sheer instinct or by an unspoken assurance, the people knew they were safe this starry night. Legends from the old worlds tell of how spirits of nature and death would, during particular hours of certain nights, ride wild and free.

Tonight, would truly be one of those nights.

A beastial roar echoed down the darkened streets before the motorcycle burst onto the scene with blue fire raging brightly in the shadows' embrace. The bike was shaped like a beast of a primordial nightmare with atomic fires raging from its overly large mufflers. The head of the bike roared once more, calling forth its brethren as it sped along the highway, a King calling for his warriors. An answering call came not just from behind but in the skies as well. A loud bellow came forth before the source matched the King. The Shield appeared at the left, wider than the king and sporting several sharp curves decorated in shining spikes. The wheels of the heavy-set vehicle dug into the road like the feet of a mountain giant, shaking the earth as it rumbled at impossible speeds.

Above and to the right the Sword road through the winds on the wings of an ancient lord of the sky. Thinner than the King, all the Sword had to claim to its own were its shining wings holding it aloft in the air and the armaments that few flying machines of a large size could safely carry. The head was that of an ancient avian and it shrieked loudly into the night as the last of the four arrived just behind the King and Shield. While built similarly to the Shield in sheer size, the Guardian possessed no clear form of offensive or defensive means save for its turtoisian head with sharpened tusks glimmering with the fires of mana. Though slower than those bound by land, the Guardian made up for it by taking to the air after the Sword on wings of sharp edge that cut through the wind like swords.

Now, by now one would think it clear that the night's ride had been joined for surely their could not be more of these strange vehicles with even stranger Riders on this night of nights. Well, in a way, you would be correct. No more would join this band of Riders as they traversed through the streets and alleyways of Tokyo proper.

However, Tokyo is a large city and the lands surrounding it even larger.

Above and soaring along the winds as though the clouds were its roads travelled another of these strange vehicles accompanied solely by its Rider. The motorcycle roared like a mad demon, twisting to and fro through the sky in a serpent's dance, testing the limits of itself and its rider. Poisoned spikes shined along the Sky Serpent's base with a beast's face opened wide in a monstrous scream that sent forth a tornado of wind.

Far below in a nearby lake, a great Sea Serpent rose from the depths and rode on the crashing waves that it called forth. Longer than the rest and by far the most agile of them, the Sea Serpent danced along the surface of the churning lake in a strange aqueous symphony heard only by the shared ears of its Rider. The serpentine head opened wide, draconic horns crackling with energy before thunderous lightning shot forth in twisting arches, matching the rhythm of the strangely exotic dance.

The top of Mount Fuji was ablaze with terran fire the likes of which hadn't graced its slopes since time immemorial when demons roamed and gods still walked the mortal realm. There at its zenith rode the last of the Serpentine Trio, the Earth Serpent, roaring and performing impressive leaps across the molten earth amidst explosion of flame and ashen smoke. By far the bulkiest of the motorcycles, the Earth Serpent sported an impressive device that served it well for offensive and defensive purposes. The jumper claws could tear into mountain stone with ease and allowed the Earth Serpent to leap to unimaginable heights. The horn astride its head glowed brilliantly amidst the red hues of Fuji's blood and its terrestrial facage was spread in a vicious smile of victory.

Think this the end of an obliviously wild night? Not true, though it draws at last to its brilliant finish for above the Sword and Guardian, nay even above the Sky Serpent, soared the Yin and Yang, two pieces of one whole. The feminine Yin danced amidst the starlight, twirling in a dance matched only by its brother, the masculine Yang who danced amidst the shadows of a new moon. Alone, they were each unique in their movements but combined together they made a dance the likes of which could only be shared by those of a shared soul, divided into two bodies. Brother and sister their riders were but of one soul they were made, the white and the black, never to be fully united nor fully divided ever again.

And far, far below, atop a cresting hill that allowed a grand view of the night's festivities stood an Old Wolf, its Rider leaning against its shaggy side. The Old Wolf's face was worn with wisdom and years served but if there was but one type of wolf to fear it was an old wolf for the old grew wise with age and experience was the best kind of teacher. Though no older than the soaring siblings above, the Old Wolf found amusement in watching the obvious grandstanding amongst its brethren.

"Well, we certainly can't let them have all the fun can we, old friend?" Its Rider grinned beneath a helmet of gold and lion's mane. He patted the motorcycle's head, scratching a familiar spot just behind the ears. "What do you say? You up to showing these pups how to do it right?" The answering howl was all he needed for an answer and with but a simple command, the Old Wolf charged forward, faster than its age belied and soared up into a high jump at the crest of the hill.

"Let's ride!"

* * *

A/N: I was recently reading through KRD:EoC and I realized that Gojira was the only Kamen Rider to have a ride, so I decided to rectify that with this chapter. Not much in the way of detail or how the K-Cycles were made so allow me to explain how they work but expect a more detailed revision in the glossary of KRD:EoC in the future.

The K-Cycles are a unique form of bio-technology left over from the Riders' old world. Basically, outside of Rider form, the K-Cycles look no different than any other motorcycle if a bit more advanced in appearance. Once the Riders transform however, the bikes are morphed into their trans-organic forms. Part machine and part organic, the K-Cycles' will is that of their Rider and they share the same powers and abilties with them.


	4. Halloween

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**DISCLAIMERS: Don't own what's not my own.**

**TIME: Roughly seven months after the events of Monster Zero  
**

* * *

**SnapShots**

By Corvus no Genmu the Prince of Slumberland

"_Halloween!_"

Emerald eyes snapped open with a loud, startled snort. They blinked slowly before a thin form sat upright in obvious confusion. Burning eyes looked heavenward, narrowing at a fast-moving star. Frowning, it moved quickly up along the far wall, climbing higher and higher until it reached the topmost point of the small farmhouse. It turned its eyes to the patch of solitary fruits down below, the farmer's one pride and joy. Sharp claws long as a knive's blade and twice as sharp gripped the aged wood of the old house as a deep frown marked its rounded face.

Burning eyes suddenly widened in realization, a startled gasp turning to an angry growl. It stood upright, ready to tear the whole lot of them asunder when suddenly it paused, head tilted in confusion as it listened to voices only it could hear in the midnight of the starry sky. Its eyes turned once more to the vastly oversized pumpkin patch below, a considering frown now marking its face, a claw tapping gently at its chin.

On one hand, there was some generously satisfied vengeance to be had. On the other… well, it had to wait for another evening but it was bound to be one heck of a party… Its frown turned itself upside down and spread itself wide in a malevolent grin as claws steepled together in conniving pleasure.

"_This… is going to be a good trick…_"

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Bastian took a long swig of his coffee, headphones playing gentle soft tunes in his ears as he read a timeless classic, trying his best to ignore the antics of his team.

"Oh, oh, Link! What do you think I should be for Halloween?" B.O.B. melted to the floor. "Chewing gum?" Another shift, this time into a ball and bouncing about like one. "Bouncy ball? Baseball? Snowball?" Another melting. "A melted snowball?" To suddenly nine different ball floating about like a miniature—"Solar System?" To a popular urbanized icon. "Fat Elvis? Thank you, thank you very much."

Bastian set his book down to stare at the walking pile of ooze. "That… was by far the worse Elvis impression I've ever heard. Thank you, thank you very much." He responded, sounding exactly like the King of Rock himself before focusing once more on his book, ignoring the newly named Butterflyosaurus, or Bee for short, muffled giggling at Link's reaction to Bastian's "old-age attitude".

"Hey guys, good news!" Book immediately forgotten and tossed back onto the shelf with his headphones close behind. He turned in his chair to turn and regard his girlfriend of seven months, on Susan Murphy who, unlike B.O.B., Link, and Bee, was a human-type monster in that she was a towering giantess just an inch or two shy of fifty-feet. "Looks like that yeti sighting was just a hoax! So we've got the night off."

"Ah, good news indeed!" Bastian jumped down to the table to land beside Susan's oversized coffee cup. "'Bout time actually." He shot a glance at B.O.B. who was snickering childishly. "And your problem is?"

"Nothing, nothing." The plasmoid turned his eye up at Susan. "Enjoy your coffee. It's normal, really." Susan, who had her cup halfway to her mouth paused, frowning with suspicion that was quickly confirmed. "No one's in it."

Hearing his cue, Link burst from the coffee with a monstrous roar. He grinned like the jock that he was as he leaned back, ignoring Susan's disgusted look, one that was shared equally with Bastian. "This could use a little more milk."

Needing no more prompting, Susan dumped Link onto the table and placed her cup down far and away.

"I'll have them double-wash it for you to get the fish taste out of it." Bastian promised her, shooting a disapproving glare at the Missing Link, one that was easily ignored as he questioned Susan.

"Where is your Halloween spirit?"

"Hey!" Susan leaned back, crossing her legs like an eager child. "I've got plenty of Halloween spirit! Just wait until you see my zombie cheerleader costume!" She looked away, finger pressed to her lips. "Where to get some really big pompoms though…"

Bastian blinked and imagined Susan in a cheerleader's outfit. B.O.B. was awed by the large grin on the man's face even as Link argued with Susan.

"Susan, you're a real monster now and that means you're playing in the big leagues with the big boys." Link started pacing in circles. "I got fifty years of missed Halloweens all smushed up tight inside me just bursting to get out!" He spoke passionately. "This isn't just any night, it's OUR night, and when it finally comes we gots to terrify."

Bastian glanced up at Susan as she looked down at him. "See? This is exactly why we can't take him anywhere."

"However, for some of us, All Hallow's Eve is more trick than treat." Dr. Cockroach turned away from his computer, glowering angrily.

'_Oh god, not the swirly-pop story again…_' Bastian palmed his face as Dr. Cockroach continued with his story. '_Every bloody Halloween, it comes back to that stupid swirly-pop…_' Bastian's ears twitched and he glowered up at the painting of the President hanging high on the wall.

"C'mon you guys. Like you said, it's our night, right? So lets get out and have some fun!" chirped Susan, smiling brightly.

"Fun time's over monsters!" General Monger appeared on the scene through his "hidden" entrance through the painting, held aloft by his customary jetpack. "It's a no-go, I repeat, a no-go on Halloween." Disappointment came from B.O.B. and Link while Dr. Cockroach cheered loudly. Bastian remained indifferent while Susan looked concerned as the General continued, "We got us a major situation."

He flew over as the primary monitor slid up from the table, displaying a close-up image of the United States. "A UFO has entered our airspace over California." The image zoomed in on California, continuing on until it focused on the point of origin. "And you ain't going to believe where."

"Modesto?!" exclaimed Susan. "Why is it always Modesto?"

"I thought it was kinda freaky myself." Monger agreed.

"Any idea what we're facing, General?" asked the Doc, nearly abuzz with glee. "Invasion? Abductions? Probes?"

"Unknown, and I hate me some unknown!" exclaimed Monger, glowering down at the mad scientist. "So I want you down on the ground searching Modesto for possible alien intruders ASAP. Better yet, PRONTO!" He flew up to hover in front of Susan, giving her his patented no-nonsense stare. "And let's keep this as a need-to-know basis, meaning nobody-needs-to-know!"

"What about my parents?" asked Susan.

"Nope, not even your parents. It's Halloween after all, we don't want to go around scaring folks."

Bastian stared up at the General. "… Did you even think that over before you went and said it?"

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Long claws gently stroked the soft dirt, delicately balancing a glowing drop of slime. A long, quivering tongue slithered between fangs, taking a delicate lick. Eyes bugged wide open, before it spat loudly and quickly, the remnants of the slime burning the moonlight. It rose tall, glowering at the remnants of the alien slime with inhuman distaste. Wings spread open to carry it aloft when it heard a sudden roar from the heavens. Looking skyward, emerald eyes widened in pleased surprise, watching as the source of it disappeared into the nearby town. Its grin returned with a vengeance.

It was time to play.

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"Hey guys, since everything is fine here, why don't you _go out_ and do some _trick-or-treating_?" asked Susan, trying her best to keep B.O.B. from devouring her parents' candy-themed decorations. "You know, check out the _neighborhood_?"

"Of course! We'll keep an _eye_ out!" Doctor Cockroach assured the giantess before realizing his audience. "For candy."

"Wait, where we going when there's candy right here?" asked B.O.B. as Link pushed him away from the house.

"You comin' Bee?" he asked the giant butterfly who roared a negative and took off into the skies, her destination unknown.

"Just try and stay… focused…" Susan sighed, realizing just how silly it was to even hope the others would do that much.

"Don't worry, sweetheart." Bastian assured her. "I'm sure they'll find some treats among the tricks of this town."

"Susan, maybe you and your mom can start peeling the grapes for the eyeball salad," suggested Mr. Murphy, shooting a fatherly glare over at Bastian as he ambled over towards his car. "I've got to get to Farmer Jeb's patch. Not to point a finger, but we, hum, need more pumpkins."

"No!" In her haste to stop her father, Susan accidentally knocked her father's car onto its side. "Oh, ah… Sorry… Aah, it's not, um, safe out there! You know, kids are throwing eggs, you could get teepeed! So uh," she reached over and set the car back on its tires, "I'll go get the pumpkins! Bastian can stay and help."

"I can what?" asked Bastian, turning to look up at his girlfriend in surprise. She shot him a pleading look, one that he tried his best to defend against.

He lasted just short of thirty seconds this time.

"Of course, sweetheart. You sure you'll be alright though?"

"I'll be fine, honey. I'll call if anything comes up," she said, pulling out her vastly oversized walkie-talkie before heading out to Farmer Jeb's, just catching the beginning of her parents' conversation with her boyfriend.

"Where's your costume by the way?" asked Mrs. Murphy.

"I… I don't have one actually." Bastian admitted. All Hallow's Eve a rare holiday to have acknowledged in his life before, let alone celebrate in its proper fashion.

"What? No costume?! We can't have that! C'mon lad, we'll get you dressed up right and proper!" exclaimed her father, dragging Bastian along into the house with her mother following close behind.

Susan smiled and continued on her way, secretly glad that her parents were getting along so well with her boyfriend.

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Mr. Murphy waited until his wife had vanished upstairs into the attic to try and dig up a spare costume for Bastian before he turned angry eyes upon the man. Surprised, Bastian stood tall, taller than the man himself, with his own eyes narrowed more in defense than in any kind of rage.

"Now don't get me wrong, I'm happy that Susie found herself a better man than Derek," Bastian noted the man's wince at the name, "I refuse to let such a thing happened for a second time, so I'm asking you, do you think you're good enough for my daughter?"

Bastian heard more than what Mr. Murphy was saying but he didn't know the man enough to say his mind, at least not fully. "No… I'm not… I won't lie to you Mr. Murphy, I was married once before and in the years since then, I've always held firm that I could have done better by here."

"Hrmph. So you were divorced?" He asked.

Bastian's canines lengthened as he glared at the man. "She was murdered." At the man's apparent shame, Bastian relaxed, looking out into the town through the large windows of the living room. "I never found him… I never had the chance to avenge her death…"

"… I don't think I have to ask how far you would go for my daughter."

"Hrm, when Derek broke her heart… it took everything in me not to kill him that night. She's a precious person, Mr. Murphy, she's a light in the darkness, someone that still believes in those happy-ever-after endings… but isn't afraid to try and write her own story. She's… amazing." Bastian turned his head to Mr. Murphy. "She believes us to be friends, Mr. Murphy. For her sake, please at least pretend as such for her."

Mr. Murphy stared at him in silence for a long moment before shaking his head. "I don't have to pretend."

"Found it!" Mrs. Murphy called as she came down the stairs, carrying a long package in her arms. "Now let's see about getting you into the spirit of things." She laughed at some private joke, fully aware of what transpired in her home between her husband and daughter's boyfriend. If he asked her, Mrs. Murphy would answer the same to Bastian's request; she didn't have to pretend either.

He was a good man despite how much he believed otherwise.

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"Farmer Jeb? Hello? Jeb?" Susan stepped carefully into the farmgrounds, being extra mindful of Farmer Jeb's empty patches. The crazy old man was Modesto's one and only pumpkin farmer and so easily supplied the town with pumpkins every Halloween. Of course, he was also more than slightly crazy about the orange produce… hopefully he wouldn't give her any trouble in picking up some more for her family.

If he was actually here that is…

She pulled out her radio and pressed it for the Doc and the others, maybe they found something cause she certainly wasn't. "Hello guys? Are you there?"

"_Susie_." Link answered, short, to the point, and not sounding to happy.

"Are you seeing anything? I'm just outside of town and there's nothing. Not even weird, old Farmer Jeb…"

"_Same here, Suz… I think this is just one big—AAAH!_"

Susan nearly tossed her radio away in surprise.

"Link?!" She gasped. "Are you alright?! What happened?!"

Doctor Cockroach's laughter answered her, "_Hoho! Sorry Susan! Creepy clown costume! But everything's simply delightful here! No B.O.B. put that down! That's my butterfinger! Trades a trade! We'll call you with we find anything Susan, over and out!_" Susan stared at her radio in surprise before exasperation set in with a roll of her baby-blue eyes. She started to press the call button for Bastian when she heard a rustling of wings from behind her.

A tall form landed on her shoulder, grinning in pleasure as he took a seat with crossed legs. "Girl, I just flew in from Minneapolis, and boy are my arms tired! Hahahaha!"

Susan stared in surprise at the man who, for all appearances, looked like a scarecrow with a jack-o-lantern for a head. His clothes were plain farmer clothes beneath the folds of a long brown trenchcoat with a matching wide-brimmed fedora topping his round head. Susan recognized it at once as a costume her father wore back during his, ahem, less rounded days. Since it cost him so much to buy, and a lot of time to wear, her father never threw it out so she assumed she knew the man behind the mask.

"Bastian? What are you doing here? I thought you were going to watch over my parents!"

He reached over and tweaked her nose. "With this face, call me Jack, candyheart." His grin widened as he leaned back on her shoulder, looking down at the ground below. "As for your parents worry not! No one shall get hurt this night of nights!"

Susan opened her mouth to dispute that when she heard the barn doors suddenly rattle loudly as though someone, or something, was banging hard upon them. She exchanged a glance with Bastian, or Jack as he called himself, and leaned down on her knees before carefully opening the barn doors as her passenger leapt down to land beside her.

"Is anybody in there?"

"Several," answered Jack as Farmer Jeb dropped down from the ceiling, tied tightly with vines and a small pumpkin pressed firm in his mouth. He spat it out quickly with a scream.

"They're aliiiiiive!" Faint green light shined as several pumpkins rose up from the shadows of the barn, their faces spread in toothless smiles as they advanced. Susan fell back with a start while Jack ran forward, grabbing a nearby farming scythe as he went. He cackled with glee as he brought forth a massive amount of devastation upon the mutant pumpkins. Those were not slain in his first rush started running with frightened squeals but they too fell to Jack's blade. The last one, a small little thing no bigger than a baseball, was squashed beneath a heavy boot as Jack stood grinning amidst the glowing green blood of the pumpkins.

"… Where did you learn how to fight like that?" questioned Susan, staring in surprise at Jack who twirled his scythe to rid it of the alien blood before using it to cut the frightened Jeb down. The glowing blood fizzled and slowly smoked away on the wooden floor of the barn.

"Internet." Jack answered smartly, easily picking Jeb up with one clawed hand. He looked at the man and suddenly smiled with recognition. "Jeb, my man! I missed you in Kentucky…" Jeb looked confused before his face became chalk-white and he fainted in Jack's hand. The pumpkin-headed scarecrow grinned. "Still got it."

"_Uh… Susan…_" The Doc called over her radio. "_We have a problem…_"

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"You messed with the wrong monsters, Pumpkin!" Doctor Cockroach stood proudly between the mutant pumpkins and the Murphy home, Link and B.O.B. standing beside him and a small mob of children behind them. "Nobody steals candy on my watch!"

"Nobody freaks these kids out but me!" Link stated, pounding his chest for emphasis. The two turned to B.O.B. expectantly as the plasmoid remained silent.

"I'm thinking, stop pressuring me!"

Susan stomped onto the scene, standing in front of her friends with Jack sitting comfortably on her shoulder.

"I hope somebody brought the nutmeg." The Leader of the pumpkin horde growled at the giantess though she stood taller than it. She stepped forward as Jack leapt down to the ground behind her. "Halloween belongs to monsters, and this monster is a pumpkin-crushing giant!"

Susan stomped her foot down at the Leader Pumpkin who leapt nimbly back, babbling in its people's tongue. Obeying their leader's commands, the horde melded together with it, combining together until there was no small horde border on the hundreds range but a towering muntant amalgamation of pumpkins that towered over a hundred feet tall.

"Aha… and apparently you're a giant-crushing pumpkin…" Susan stated, backing away from the towering monstrosity. The Mutant Pumpkin grinned, pulling back a vined claw to smash down upon the giantess when—

"STOP."

And it did.

All eyes turned to Jack, who stood proudly with a hand held up at the mutated mass of fruit, his grin gone, replaced by a glowering frown. The flames inside his skull darkened to an emerald green, matching than exceeding the shade of the monster before him. The stars suddenly became dim as the moon's pale light deepened into a shade of red. The wind suddenly picked up, twisting and twining tightly about the street like hidden cats on the prowl. The lights of porches suddenly switched off and in the darkness, eyes began to shine. Multitude of eyes large and small with yellowed fangs, sharpened beaks, and wicked claws.

"O autumn winds that bake and burn  
And all the world to darkness turn,  
Now storm and seize, and make of me…  
A swarm of leaves from Autumn's Tree!"

The winds whistled sharply, tearing asunder a whole swarm of leaves; gold, brown, red as rust, all wild and simmering in the changed light of the full moon above. Flying like miniature kites on the strings of the winds, the leaves turned their sights upon the mutant pumpkin and flew like knives, tearing throw vine and hardened shell with childish ease.

Jack stood back and watched in silence as the mutant pumpkins screamed and roared as the leaves tore it asunder, scattering bits and pieces here and there but the arsenal would not bring the beast down. His fanged mouth opened wide and from its depths issued forth a scream so terrible, it brought hands to ears and eyes to clench themselves shut tight. All who heard it would never forget its horrible sound, a sound of midnight terror riding on the bones of the dead, flying on wings of bats, prowling in the undergrowth with a pack of wolves.

The mutant pumpkin screamed with Jack as the eyes exploded out from the darkness, taking shape in the moonlight as whole packs, flights, swarms, everything that could be described to the massive group of creatures that ran under Jack's command. Wolf claws tore into vines as spiders' fangs bit down into hard shells, poisoning the meat beneath while ravens' beaks pierced flesh and vine together, taking their fill and finding room for more. Bats screamed shrilly amidst the terrible swarms of insects that amassed over shell and vine, devouring everything that was in their path.

Jack's mouth closed with a sudden snap and slowly, eyes opened and hands fell from ears to take in the sight of a destroyed mass of vegetation that was once the giant mutated pumpkin now turned to pulp. Gone were its destroyers and gone was its head, the Leader who had sacrificed its followers for its own life, now flying high in the air on helicopter blades forged from its own vines.

It laughed in victory, somehow knowing it had won out in the end when the front door of the Murphy home exploded open with a technological scream of, "BioMerge System, initiated."

It was a monstrous bat that topped fifty meters in height not in length for its serpentine tail was twice as long as it was tall. Its bat like wings were spread wide and its secondary set of mandibles, which rested just outside its lower jaw, spread wide into another roar as it flew upwards toward the pumpkin Leader. Amidst its gobbledegook, one could hear a faint whimper as monstrous jaws unleashed a powerful sonic scream that sent its body into an explosion of pumpkin bits and hordes of candy that rained down to the ground below like brightly colored confetti.

Bagorah turned a tight circle, landing as its form glowed brightly and exploded into a human form. Bastian stood up, dressed up as a 90's rock-n-roll singer with a pair of thick, and heavy, headphones on his head, which he was quick to toss away with a grumbled, "Stupid piece of—couldn't hear a damn thing with those on."

"Ba-Bastian?" Susan stuttered, staring in shock at the man even as the kids swarmed over the candy, fighting to claim their spoils against an eager but playful B.O.B. "Wait… if that's your costume… than who…"

Four pairs of eyes turned to one Jack who stood reclined against a leafless tree with naught a care in the world. A mad grin was spread on his jaws as he moved his claws to a song whose notes were played by the whispers of the wind.

"There are few who'd deny, at what I do I am the best for my talents are renowned far and wide. When it comes to surprises in the moonlit night I excel without ever even trying. With the slightest little effort of my ghostlike charms I have seen grown men give out a shriek. I'm the master of fright and a demon of light, and I'll scare you right of your pants." Jack's grinned as skeletal wings burst forth from his back. He flew upwards with a mad cackle, his words falling down to the monsters below.

"Trick or Treat!"


End file.
